


Truth or Dare

by BobRoser



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 05:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobRoser/pseuds/BobRoser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sherlock headed home, Lestrade, Mike, Molly and John decided to play a game of Truth or Dare. But without her Consulting Detective around to protect her, how will the Pathologist avoid slipping out her biggest secret?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth or Dare

I don't know that I'd call it an engagement party, but last night, Sherlock, Greg, Mike, Molly and John headed down to the local for a few drinks. Sherlock barely lasted an hour, bemoaning the drunkenness and noise that surrounded them, but Molly decided she'd stick around, although she said she wouldn't drink because she d work the next day. After a couple of rounds, the group went out and sat in the garden behind the rickety old bar, and Greg ordered a bottle of liquor and poured shots.  
'What sh'we do?', he asked, wobbling slightly on his feet.  
'Drinking gamethhh!' Mike responded, already slurring his words slightly.  
'Perhaps not. How about... Truth or dare?' John suggested, seeing that Mike probably didn't need any further incentive to get wasted.  
'Perfect', Molly said, rolling her eyes at Mike's rowdiness.  
'Right!' said Greg, 'Molly, you first!'  
'Ow, but...'  
'No butthhh' Mike scolded. As he looked away, Molly poured around half his wine into the grass.  
'Truth, then'  
'Is Sherlock a good kisser?' Greg chuckled.  
'I DON'T want to know that, Molly', John butted in.  
'Go on, be a sport John', Lestrade jeered.  
'Alright. Yes, he's a great kisser', Molly answered blushing slightly around the edges of her round face. Lestrade laughed, and drained a shot glass.  
'Who next?'  
'You!' Molly pointed at Lestrade, laughing.  
'Ok... Dare!'  
'Ca-call Therlock and tell him... Tell him you got Molly preggerth!' Mike was now very, very drunk. Molly pulled a bottle of water out of her handbag and poured the contents into his empty glass.  
'Not that.' Lestrade said, confidently.  
'No!' John cried, finding his refusal hilarious. 'What was it you said to me? Be a sport, Greg.'  
Molly opened her mouth to protest, but Greg just laughed and started dialling the number for 221B. He put the phone on speaker and lay it on the table.  
'Hello. Is this Sherlock?'  
'Well, yes, you did call my flat, Lestrade.' came the peevish reply. I could tell this wouldn't go down well.  
'I've got to erm, tell you something.', Lestrade barely got the words out, half hysterical with laughter.  
'Yes?'  
'I um... Molly and I are having a baby.'  
'No you're not. Entirely impossible. I'm sure such jokes amuse you, Lestrade, but frankly...'  
'No, really', Greg laughed.  
'Lestrade, I'd like to let you know, first, that I would prefer that you didn't do this again, it is by no means humorous, and second, that if that were true, you'd have a better chance of solving a case alone than surviving our next encounter.' he hung up.  
'Well someone's in a mood!' Molly looked a tad fretful, and went off to phone Sherlock and apologise. 

When Molly returned, looking rather guilty, she found John and Greg arguing about who was going to take Mike home - who was, by this time, trying to hug both of them saying  
'myyyy BEST frwieennds. GGGiiimmmmeee aaa HUG'  
'You've known him all your life - you do it' Greg tried to persuade John whilst dodging Mike's open wide arms.  
'You live closer to his flat!' John remarked as he watched Mike giggle on the slightly dead grass with a look of amusement on his face.  
'I'm NOT taking him!' Greg exclaimed.  
'Oh, I'll take him then!' Molly said but then sighed as she looked at the challenge beneath her feet.  
'Anyway' said John 'Back to the game. I'm not really sure if Mike should be out.'  
'IM NOT OUT' Mike leapt up to the table and giggled again. The others gave each other sideway glances.  
'Fine. But no more alcohol for you.' John remarked as he put all of the shots away from Mike's arm range.  
'John, it's your turn' said Greg 'Truth or dare?'  
'Uhh.. dare'  
Greg grinned mischievously.  
'Hoped you were going to say that! Call Anderson, pretending to be Sherlock and congratulate him on being an idiot.'  
'There's no way that will work! I don't sound a bit like Sherlock!' John exclaimed 'I pass!'  
'No passes John!'. John looked at both of them, sighed when he knew he was defeated and got his phone out.  
'What's Anderson's number Greg?' John keyed the number in and prepared his best Sherlock voice.  
'Yes?' came the sneering voice down the end of the ohone 'Who is it?'  
'It's me, Sherlock.' John tried to say in a deep, cold voice. To him, he sounded like a cool, calculative Sherlock. To the others, he sounded like a dying whale.  
'This isn't Sherlock!' Anderson accused whilst the others tried to suppress their laughter 'who is it? I demand to know who you are!' When there was no reply because John was holding the phone as far a way as possible whilst he tried to control the giggles, Anderson lost it.  
'I'm an OFFICIAL forensics analysis! You shouldn't make fun of the police! I can have you arrested! I will track you down and - ' John cut the call off and the group roared with laughter. Once everything had quietened down a bit, it was Molly's turn.  
'Umm... truth.'  
'What did you tell Sherlock to get on his good side again, after you and he had that row?' Greg asked, a twinkle of mischief in his eye.  
'Uhh....' Molly went lobster red  
'I REALLY don't want to know that' John remarked as he started at a particularly interesting brick.  
'Go on Molly, it's the rules! You said truth!' Greg laughed.  
'I promised - I promised he could watch me dissect a corpse' she stammered. Silence.  
'WHAT?!' Greg exclaimed, 'that's Sherlock's idea of ... what the hell?!'  
'It could have been way worse' John sighed with relief  
'Molly, I'm judging you and Sherlock for the rest of your lives' Greg frankly remarked  
'They're made for each other' muttered John.  
'Stop being mean! I'm sure if someone was mad at you, you woul - ' Molly's sentence was cut off completely as Mike vomited on her.  
'Oh, my life is so brilliant' she muttered as she cursed Mike inside her head

After they'd cleaned Molly up, John suggested a game of 'Would You Rather'.  
'Ok. I'll start', Molly said. 'John! Would you rather... Live alone forever, or live with Sherlock forever?'  
'Tricky one... Well, it's hard to get bored with Sherlock about, so I'll go with that option. I'll ask next. Molly! Would you rather, hmm... Would you rather... Shower with Sherlock everyday, or never shower again?'  
'I do one of those things anyway...' Greg looked disgusted, and then pretended to sniff her.  
'Well, you don't smell like a dead rat, so I'm assuming you shower with Sherlock everyday?'  
'DON'T answer that Molly!' John cried. 'Greg, your turn to ask a question.'  
'Hmm... Molly, I'm going for you, again. Would you rather burn to death or freeze to death?'  
'Freeze. My turn.'  
They went on like this for a short while, before getting bored and electing to play a few more rounds of truth or dare.  
Lestrade was slightly tipsier than the other two, but Mike had been sent home in a taxi, after vomiting on John for a third time.  
'Molly first.'  
'Why is it always me?!'  
'Just is. Now... Weirdest thing that's ever happened to you?'  
'Umm... Waking up tied to Sherlock's bed with the cord from his best dressing gown, wearing one of his shirts, with a severed cat's head on the pillow beside me.'  
'Eeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwww! We didn't want to know that Molly!'  
'You did ask', Molly replied, mock-indignant. 'My turn. Greg, truth or dare?' asked Molly.  
'Truth'.  
'Hmmm... ok. What is the worst thing Sherlock has ever done to you?'  
'Uh, existed?' joked Greg.  
'No, I'm serious.'  
'Umm... well 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar' encounter was terrible, although I've told John that one... But I suppose the worst thing he ever did was call my boss 'a complete and utter idiot' and say that he was as useful as an amoeba. And he then told him I was the one who had recommended him. My boss refused to talk to me for weeks.' Greg has a slightly wild and distressed look in his eyes so Molly took the attention away from him.  
'What about you John?'  
'Ninjas' John muttered under his breath, 'fucking ninjas'.  
'What?' Molly asked, confused.  
'HE MADE ME DRESS UP AS A FUCKING NINJA. AND CHASE A BAD GUY IN IT.' shouted John. The whole pub went into an awkward silence.  
'Far too many drinks' murmured an elderly lady to their right. The three glanced at each other.  
'That really wasn't very good.' whispered Molly, voicing all their thoughts.  
'Moving on!' Greg cried cheerfully. 'John! Have a dare!'  
'I just went!'  
'Well you're going again!'  
'But! Fine...'  
'Go up to that woman and apologise for the ninja thing.'  
John got up from his seat, and sidled slightly tipsily toward the table where the old woman sat.  
'Hi, um, sorry, I'm um, the guy who was shouting about the ninjas and I just wanted to say I was sorry.'  
The woman stood up, looked John up and down, and slapped him full in the face. The other two laughed hysterically. John, however, looked rather put out.  
'Right, um, ok, thanks, um, bye.' He returned to his seat, fuming.  
'You should see your face!' Lestrade exclaimed, chuckling.

'All right!' John cried, vengeance his clear intent. 'Lestrade! How long were you dating Sergeant Donovan?'  
'You what?' Molly laughed.  
'Wow-wow-wow. Can we please keep my romantic history out of this?'  
'You just got me slapped by a granny. How merciful were you expecting me to be?'  
'All right. Two days.'  
Molly was howling with laughter.  
'And what was your first and, I'm guessing, last date?  
'A film, and curry. As it turns out, she has a severe allergy to chilli. It's possible that this factor contributed significantly to the lack of second date.' By this time Molly was nearly on the floor, shaking with uncontrollable giggles.

'Can I ask one now, please?' begged Molly, having recovered from her minor fit. 'John, how did you propose to Mary?'  
'She actually proposed to me. Don't make assumptions, Molly!'  
'Fine. How did she propose to you?'  
'She sent a letter, actually. With a ring taped to the bottom. It was pretty cute. If I hadn't seen the ring, I might not have realised, because her handwriting is awful.'  
Molly sighed wistfully. John and Greg glanced at each other.  
'...Molly... do you want to MARRY Sherlock?' asked Greg hesitantly.  
'Uhhhh, well' Molly stammered as she was pulled out of her dream world.  
'Oh god.' John said, staring in disbelief.  
'This is bad' said Greg as they stared at Molly.  
'This means...' started John.  
'that we would have to put with him' followed Greg.  
'24/7'  
'Complaining about married life'  
'And, oh my god. No.' John was experiencing a terrible realisation.  
'What is it John?' Greg asked worriedly.  
'What do married people usually have Greg?' John stared at him, a look of horror on his face. Greg stared at him, until it struck him to which he exclaimed:  
'MORE ALCOHOL!' he shouted and him and John poured it down their throats as if it were water. The quicker they got drunk, the quicker they could bleach their brains of that terrible idea.  
'Little Sherlocks, little Sherlocks, oh god, save us' Greg despaired.  
'Um, guys. I'm right here.' Molly waved her hand in front of their faces. She was trying to joke, but John almost thought he saw pain in her eyes. Tears, even  
'Molly, promise me you will never get pregnant with Sherlock's child. You would be subjecting that child to a lifetime of horror.' Greg begged. Molly was entirely reticent, and looked almost hurt.  
'Tell her the Hungry Caterpillar one?' John asked  
'Oh god. My ex thought it would be a great idea for him to read 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar' to him... he then told my 5 year old that the caterpillar wouldn't be able to consume 4 plums yet alone swiss cheese and lollipops. The caterpillar would have exploded and died. And then he said that his whole life was a lie.' Greg shuddered at the memory and buried his face in his hands, 'the CRYING. It went on for weeks.'  
'See?' John pointed to Greg who was trying to recover from the memory.  
'I'm sure Sherlock would make a great dad!' said Molly defensively. Greg and John both raised their eyebrows.  
'Well... with some help... just a bit... just to start off with' she tried to counter-argue but was soon defeated.  
'Molly, I've lived with him. He puts fingers in the fridge and one time he tried to serve me spaghetti with eyeballs. So, trust me on this one, Sherlock, is NOT built to be a dad.' persuaded John.  
'He tried to serve you spaghetti with EYEBALLS?' Greg said incredulously.  
'He thought they were meatballs' sighed John.  
'Can we get back to the game?' pleaded Greg, who looked a bit sick.

'Molly!'  
'Truth.'  
'Ok... How DO you feel about the idea of little Sherlocks?'  
'Well...'  
'Molly, no. No little Sherlocks.' Seeing the expression on Molly's face, John changed tack. 'You don't, um, want Sherlock's kids, do you?'  
'Um, John, I'm, um...'  
'You do?' John looked mortified.  
'No I... John, it's, um... Complicated.'  
'It's a yes or no question.', he chided.  
Suddenly the words rushed out of her, like a river breaking a dam. 'John, I'm six weeks pregnant.'  
Greg spat beer across the table.  
'You WHAT?', the men cried in unison.  
'We weren't going to tell people until I was at least three months. Don't say anything,to anyone, please.'  
'So is that why... When I called Sherlock... That's why he got so...'  
'Yeah.' Molly breathed. 'Just, you know, keep it under wraps for now, and um, try not to make too many jokes about what a shit dad he's going to be.' Molly looked like she was trying hard to maintain her composure.  
'Alright, Molly, but that's a big thing.' John placed an arm around her 'Well, I suppose, congratulations are in order, Molly Hooper.'


End file.
